What Makes a Hero
by AzureLop
Summary: Superhero AU. After enrolling in a school for superheroes, the kids must learn to control their powers, deal with their pasts and work together to overcome the obstacles in their way. Especially when Kenny's unusual situation not only poses a threat to their world, but many others. Will contain multiple POVs. Rated M because South Park, what do you expect?
1. Chapter 1

AN: Hi! This is the first South Park fanfiction I've written, and I'm excited to get into it. Before I start, a few things.

For the most part this fanfiction is going to follow the canon established by the show (up to the end of season 21), with a few exceptions. The first, and most obvious being that the superhero arcs never happened, this also includes anything to do with Professor Chaos (although episodes featuring him may still be referenced, Butter's involvement with the plot of that episode may be slightly different). Any other exceptions will be addressed as the story progresses, but for the most part you can assume if it's happened on screen it's happened before this fanfiction (despite the fact this is an AU to the show).

There will be multiple POVs within this fanfiction. My current notes have me sticking to one a chapter, however this may (and probably will) change as the story progresses. You should hear from most of the cast of heroes at some point in time, so look forward to hearing from your favourite boy (or girl).

Another warning, this fanfiction will include same sex couples (which if you're caught up on the show should be obvious who this is) so if that's not your thing, well you've been warned.

Finally, this is a hobby for me. For the most part I'm not going to be overly strict with schedules, however I'm hoping to get into a rhythm and have certain upload days.

South Park is owned by Matt Stone and Trey Parker. I claim no ownership for any of their characters used within this story.

That's all I have to say, so lets get into it!

* * *

-Kenny-

Rain poured heavily from the sky, causing my purple hood to cling to strands of dusty blonde that made up my hair. Despite the rain, I could feel nothing. No cold sensation from the water soaking through my outfit, no breeze rushing across my face from the gusting winds, no piercing pain from the stab wound in my chest. Why? One word.

 _Adrenalin._

A red beam of light separated me and my attacker, causing him to take a step back, my blood still fresh on his dagger. I wasn't down yet though. I have taken much heavier hits. The destructive force created from the laser pierced the ground into two, creating a crevice at least three metres wide.

"There's one more coming in on the right! Kite, keep up the support. Toolshed, we need some area cover!" a commanding voice bellowed into my earpiece as a raven-haired boy from behind me ran forward.

"Got it!" he yelled, pulling out a drill. Plunging it into the ground, the whirling sound of metal breaking through concrete was deafening, but short lived as six large drill heads pierced our attackers, causing the bastard that stabbed me to fall over. This was my chance.

"Mysterion don't! You're hurt, we can't lose you at this point!" ignoring the voice I ran forward. Using all my strength, I jumped as far as I could. Time seemed to slow down as I lost speed, arms desperately reaching for a ledge outside of my grasp. I wasn't going to make it. I was going to fall.

A flash of dusty blonde covered my eyes as my hair blew forward. The wind had changed directions. Two hands grasped onto mine, changing my velocity. Not only did we travel over the crevice, we continued forward to my target. With a swing, I felt the hands release their grip, launching me towards my enemy.

The man stumbled around and picked up his knife, arming himself. Before he could plunge it back into my skin, a swift kick by yours truly knocked it from his hand, sending it flying across the ground. Landing square on my two feet, I followed up with a roundhouse kick to his head, seeing a tooth fly from his mouth.

"Mysterion, catch!" I turned to the raven-haired boy who had thrown his drill into the air. Catching it in my right hand, I pointed it at the man on the ground. The head of the drill enlarged into a point, and I pulled the trigger.

 _Bzzzzzzt!_

The rumble was the most realistic sensation I had felt this entire night. Too real if you ask me, almost as if...

* * *

 _Bzzzzzzt!_

The shaking emanating from my right hand forced my eyes to open slowly.

 _Bzzzzz-_

My thumb swiped across the screen as I rolled over and let out a silent yawn. The burning light from the cracked screen of my cheap smartphone pierced my eyes, like a beam of sunlight heightened to a scorching ray by a magnifying glass. 3:45am. With much reluctance, I threw off the old dirty sheets covering my body and rolled out of bed.

The chill from the morning air seemed to seep even into my bright orange parka, causing my body to let out a shiver. Still, I braved the cold and made my way to the kitchen, all while keeping a close eye on the ground to ensure I didn't kick over any empty beer bottles or Pabst Blue Ribbon cans. The shelf above the sink held my prize, a box of Pop Tarts, not exactly what you would call a filling snack but when you lived in my household it was the best you were going to get. Shooing off a family of rats that had made home on the shelf below, I reached for the box and pulled out a single sweet snack. Step one was complete, now for step two.

I was only waiting for five minutes when the sobbing started. Knocking softly on the door before opening it, I made my way into my sister's room. Karen's room. Sweet, innocent Karen who deserved only good in this messed up world we live in. She sat on her bed, trying her hardest to not make a sound while wiping away tears. Breaking the Pop Tart into two halves, I passed her one before sitting next to her, placing my arm around her silently. She rested her head against my chest, letting the tears flow. The dampness piercing through my parka didn't even bother me, what was more important was making sure she was ok.

We sat like this for a while, eventually she let go and took a bite of the food I acquired for her, being careful to stay as silent as possible.

"Did you want to talk about it?" my voice had a muffled effect from the warm clothing covering my body, which helped us remain quiet. She simply shook her head.

"Do you want me to sleep in here with you?" again, the small girl shook her head.

"I'll be alright. Thanks though," her sweet voice was reduced down to a whisper. She was wearing a brave face, but there was still a look of trauma in her eyes.

I wish there was more I could do. I really do. If there's one person in this world I want to see happy, who I want to see living her life, it's my sister. But as it is, this is all I can do for her. Be a shoulder to cry on, give her a sense of companionship in the chaos that is our lives.

"Alright," I stood up and took a bite from my half of the Pop Tart, "if you need me, come wake me up. Promise?"

Karen nodded as I walked towards her door. Clasping the handle, her sweet whisper filled my ears once again.

"Thanks Kenny. I'm sorry I'm not as brave as you…"

It was hard for me not to laugh at that statement. If I was brave, I would have the balls to take her away from here. Take her someplace safe, away from all the harm of the world. But I'm not brave. Those things don't matter. For her, I must feign courage, show her that if I can be strong, she can too.

"Karen," I turned and smiled at my sister, "you're one of the bravest people I know. Hang in there, ok?"

* * *

"Get off your lazy ass and get to work!"

"I told you, you bitch! I was fired yesterday! You try getting a job for once!"

No need to set an alarm in this house, my family had that covered for me. Not wanting to get up quite yet, I remained in bed and tried to drown out the noise with my pillow.

"What the hell did you get fired for this time?"

"Same shit as always. They were sick of my excuses for disappearing."

My family isn't exactly _normal._ And no, I'm not referring to the fact we're poor as fuck and can barely afford the roof we live under. I'm not even referring to the fact my parents barely feed us. I mean, why would they bother with food.

 _It's not like they can die._

I live with a family of Netherborns. Cursed from birth with limited immortality. And it fucking sucks ass. My parents don't give a shit about our wellbeing. But why bother? We were just going to wake up the next day like nothing happened. What they failed to realise was although physical scars heal, _mental_ ones don't.

But there's an exception to those rules.

"Kenny, wake up. You can't be late today."

And the exception is me.

"Alright mum," I called back, throwing the sheets from my body and climbing out of bed.

I pulled the broken door off my closet. Inside laid a bag, the same one I've had my entire life. Holes were patched up to the best of my ability, and the right strap was attached to the rest of the bag by a few lines of thread.

Just like everything else in this house. Broken, torn apart, but somehow managing to hold together.

I shoved some stationary from the ground into the bag, along with a few adult magazines. It was going to be a long ride to my new school, and it wasn't like I could keep the fact I'm a huge pervert a secret for long.

 _My new school._

Those words drew my attention to an envelope lying neatly on the ground, the words 'Kenneth' scribed with some of the neatest handwriting I had ever seen. It looked so out of place among everything else.

I reached down and opened the already torn envelope, re-reading it once again.

 _Thank you for your application to Denver Middle School for Upcoming Heroes. Your application was a success. Attached below is the bio you provided:_

 _Name: Kenneth 'Kenny' McCormick  
_ _Supernatural Powers: Limited immortality. Memory manipulation (subconsciously activated, unable to be trained)  
_ _Power Source: Netherborn heritage  
_ _Other Abilities: High pain tolerance. Strong initiative. Slight training in hand to hand combat._

 _Your participation in this school has been recorded and will be added to any documents for yourself and your immediate family. Please note: in the unlikely event of a failure, another member of your family must complete The Netherborn Pledge._

The Netherborn Pledge. The thing that has sent my entire life down this path. It's not that I'm not the heroic type, hell the profession almost seems perfect for my protective nature. Even if I wasn't born to this family, I still feel like I would want to become a hero. Sure, I don't mind the occasional practical joke, but for the most part I try to do good, protect those closest to me. I'm certainly not brave, but if it means I can help someone you can sure as hell bet I'll fake it until I make it.

Netherborns are regarded as 'evil' by nature. A stereotype, but one that does have some truth behind it. After all, if you were to die as often as someone in my family, you would become numb to the concept of death too, whether it be yourself or someone else.

To redirect the stereotype, each Netherborn family must provide one child to attend a hero school. There's no way Kevin could make it through a week there, let alone until graduation. And I'm not letting Karen be placed in any more danger then she already is in.

That leaves me. Stuck going to a school I shouldn't be attending. At least I wasn't going to be the only one from this messed up town going.

* * *

"That's bullshit fatass!"

"Read it and weep Kahl. I should be the one disappointed though, I've got to put up with you losers, you guys should feel honoured you get to-"

"Hey dude," a tall kid wearing a red poofball hat interrupted the bickering of the other boys waiting at the bus stop as I approached. Stan had been a friend of mine since kindergarten. Despite his nihilistic views of the world, he was your standard thirteen-year-old boy. Well, as standard as you could get in this fucked up town.

Stan, from what I could tell had been looking forward to this day. He had powers of his own, an affinity with power tools. From what I know it developed sometime in the second grade from a freak thunderstorm. He's been practicing his psychokinetic abilities with the objects for a while now, eager to put them to use to 'do good for the world'.

"Hey, what's Cartman doing here?" I mumbled through my parka. Eric, or Cartman as we all called him, has also been my… 'friend' since kindergarten. He kind of forced his way into our group back then, and although we've been trying to ditch him ever since, he's managed to somehow stick around. Cartman is the definition of a dick, but despite that our lives would not be the same without him. He's usually the centrepiece to most of our crazy antics, so at least he keeps excitement in our lives. We thought we were finally going to be rid of him, since the three of us had enrolled in a school that should've been close to impossible for Cartman to attend.

"I was accepted just like you guys! The changes they made are pretty bullshit if I do say so myself, they got everything wrong! I mean just look at it!" Cartman waved a piece of paper in my face, allowing me to grab it and start reading.

 _Thank you for your application to Denver Middle School for Upcoming Heroes. Your application was a success; however your bio has been edited slightly. Attached below is the bio you provided along with the updated copy:_

 _Name: Eric Cartman  
_ _Supernatural Powers: Coon-like reflexes. Sharp claws that can draw blood.  
_ _Power Source: Coon DNA  
_ _Other Abilities: Being totally awesome. Also great at keeping his identity a secret. And way better at everything then Kyle._

 _Name: Eric Cartman  
_ _Supernatural Powers: n/a  
_ _Power Source: n/a  
_ _Other Abilities: Manipulation_

I couldn't help but snicker. Written proof of what we had been telling the arrogant asshole for years.

 _He doesn't have powers._

Ever since Cartman and I found out about the abilities of our friends, he had pushed the fact he too has powers. Hell, he even went as far as to wear a tail around all last year, saying he was learning to subdue his Coon DNA. That's dedication. We all knew it was fake though, after all most people with abilities try to keep it undercover at least until they finish school.

I was surprised at his acceptance though, although it's not unheard of for powerless people to be accepted, it's certainly rare, especially someone of his… stature. I can see how they regarded his manipulation as an asset though, the fatass was incredibly skilled in that area and it certainly has helped him accomplish things he shouldn't normally be able to pull off.

"Shuddup Kinny! It's wrong and you know it!" the paper was snatched fiercely from my hand before I could read any more. It didn't matter anyway, I got the general gist.

"I've told you one thousand times, space raccoons don't exist," the final member of our group lectured. Kyle was by far the smartest of the four of us, and always the first one to take a jab at Cartman. It was almost as if he made it his life mission to keep the douche in check, but because of that he can come off rather bossy. Kyle and Stan knew each other before kindergarten and are by far the closest out of all of us, probably because it was the Marsh family that first helped Kyle's parents 'adjust' to life here.

Kyle isn't human. I found out that for myself in third grade, when Cartman and I witnessed the redhead and his best friend jump from a clubhouse the two of them had built, a kite growing from the boy's back carrying them both to safety. It looked like they weren't just playing around, but training. There was a lot of explaining that day from all of us.

"They do too! Besides, it's not like Kinny has real powers either," I had to mentally restrain myself from launching my fist into that chubby face of his to shut him up.

"Dude lay off. It would be hard dying all the time, but even harder if no one remembers it," Stan tried to calm Cartman down, but the fatass didn't take the hint.

"Yeah fucking right. _Oh I'm a Netherborn so I can't die but only other Netherborns can remember my death_ ," Cartman pitched his voice up to a mocking tone, making it even harder for me to restrain myself, "it's not like poor people can be heroes anyway."

Luckily, our conversation was halted by the screeching tires of the bus.

"Come on, let's just get on. It's a long ride to Denver," Stan lead the group onto the bus as we headed towards our first day in middle school.

* * *

 _No one really knows when superpowers were discovered. Some believe people with powers have been living among us for a long time, in the shadows hiding their secret. Others believe some freak occurrence caused them to be developed within the last hundred years or so. Regardless, although very few, the world we live in is inhabited by people like us. People with extraordinary abilities. Some use it to benefit society, others use it to benefit themselves. That's where the superhero industry comes into it. A whole new career, something that kids were once told was all a fantasy in their head is now something you can aspire to be. And we were going to live that dream._

* * *

AN: Thanks for reading the first chapter! I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it.

Have a lovely morning/afternoon/night, and I'll see you next time~


	2. Chapter 2

-Butters-

I was the first on the bus today, or maybe even the only kid from South Park on the bus. I am expecting Eric to turn up one we reach his stop, since he proudly told everyone he had applied to get into the school earlier that year, even though powers are meant to kind of be a secret while you're young. People act differently around others with powers, it's easier to keep it from people at a young age. It's not like they're strong enough to cause any harm, and it saves others treating you differently. I'm sure Eric and I aren't the only ones in this town with powers though.

I didn't want to go to this school. I just wanted to live a simple life, but no, my parents had other plans. They've always been like this, ever since I discovered my powers. I remember it clear as day, I could almost see the dollar signs appear in their eyes. Ever since then they have been trying to heighten my powers, wanting me to make a name for myself, become famous and rich _through_ me.

And I hated it.

Maybe if my powers were more manageable, more straightforward, more heroic, things would be different. Maybe I wouldn't spend my entire life trying to stop my powers from activating despite my parent's best efforts. But now I was stuck. I was being sent to a school specifically to train these powers I hated and there was nothing I could do about it.

The average kid would think the solution to my problem is simple. Skip school, run away from home, get away from this life. Not an option for me. If I was to do any of that, my powers would just strengthen. The only way to subdue them is to go with the flow, use optimism whenever I can, avoid being around tension.

 _Avoid chaos._

To try to distract myself from the ride, my eyes glanced down at my acceptance letter. My parents didn't even talk to me about applying for the school, the letter just turned up in the mail after they applied for me. I read over my bio, designed to inform any teachers I had who I was and what I could do.

 _Name: Leopold "Butters" Stotch  
_ _Supernatural Powers: Creation and control over electricity  
_ _Power Source: Chaos  
_ _Other Abilities: n/a_

 _Chaos._ It always came back to that word. The reason my parents treat me so poorly, the reason my life is so messed up, because they want chaos to control it. And the reason I go along with everything that gets thrown at me, because I don't want chaos to control who I am.

* * *

The bus came to a sudden stop, causing me to let go of my acceptance letter. I reached down to pick it up as footsteps approached me.

"Well well well, looks like they'll accept anyone," I looked up from my seat to see Eric. Eric was probably the most chaotic person at the school, but somewhere inside me I thought if I can keep him happy, remove that chaos from him, maybe there was hope for me too.

"Hiya Eric!" I happily exclaimed, moving over to let him sit next to me. Stan and Kyle took the seat in front of us and Kenny sat behind us.

"Wow, you fellas are going here to? That's super neato!" Eric's group were probably the closest people I could consider my friends. Eric included me, even if my tasks in his schemes weren't always the best. Stan and Kyle were always nice to me, even if they did tease me more than they would others. Then there's Kenny, who is just all around a great guy. Probably the only sensible kid in our whole town if you ask me, which is saying a lot about our town.

"I didn't know you had powers Butters," Stan leaned over the seat and reached for the letter in my hand, "what can you do?"

Before he could grab the letter, I stuffed it into my Hello Kitty backpack, a leftover relic from my younger years I refused to get rid of.

"Oh, you know… nothing special. Just, umm, lightning powers…"

"That's sweet dude!" Kyle's eyes lit up, "They would work so well with my abilities! Can you demonstrate for us?"

"Oh, umm, I'm not great at it yet so…" I rubbed my knuckles together and desperately thought of a way to change the subject, "what are your abilities?"

"Kyle's an alien," Stan nonchalantly mentioned like it was nothing special.

"You're an alien?" I looked the red-head up and down. He looked human to me. Maybe his green hat was hiding a third eye or weird ears or something.

"Yeah, Kite-Alien to be exact. I've spent my entire life here on Earth though," Kyle rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, "I can grow a kite out of my back, which I use to glide. I should also have slight control over wind currents and be able to shoot lasers out of my eyes, but I'm still practicing that."

"That's so cool! What about you Stan?"

"Control over power tools," I gave him a strange glance, causing him to reach down and unzip his backpack, "here, watch this."

Stan held his hand slightly above the bag, and from it a screwdriver flew up into his grip.

"I can also alter the properties of them. Here, hold out your hand."

Following his order, I laid my hand out and let him place the screwdriver on it. After a few seconds, the weight suddenly changed, causing the screwdriver to be much heavier than expected.

"Did you do that?"

"Yeah. I can change the appearance of them as well, but I'm still practicing that. You know, make the edges sharper, bigger, things like that."

"Why power tools?"

"Well funny story-"

"Ugh this is so boring!" Eric threw his hands into the air, "no one wants to hear the superhero backstory to some DIY man. The Coon is much more interesting."

"What are your powers Eric?" I turned to the boy sitting next to me, "I remember last year you were telling me something about racoon DNA?"

"It's _Coon DNA_ thank you very much. And my powers are-"

"He doesn't have any," Kyle interrupted.

"Shuddup Kahl! I do too!"

"Then maybe we should read your acceptance letter again?"

"That letter is wrong, and you know it!"

"Eric doesn't have any powers?" I quizzically looked at the boys surrounding me, "then why did you have a tail towards the end of the year? Oh, you're one of those furry people, aren't you? Don't worry Eric, I'm still your friend." I patted Eric on the back as the other three burst out laughing. I don't really know what was so funny, but I'm happy they were happy. Eric didn't seem to share these feelings, so I tried to change the topic.

"What about you Kenny?"

"I'm a Netherborn," I'm lucky I've known Kenny for as long as I have, or I wouldn't understand what was being muffled through that thick hood of his.

"What's a Netherborn?" I asked.

"It means he can't die," Kyle explained, "they have a connection to the Old Gods that grants them limited immortality."

"I can only die naturally when I get old or if I am killed directly by another immortal," Kenny added to the explanation.

"Netherborns also have terrible luck. If there's a situation where someone could possibly die, it's always them," Kyle finished off the explanation.

"Oh, I think I've heard of them before. So how come I've never seen Kenny die?"

"That's the stupid thing about it!" Eric loudly complained, "only other Netherborns can remember the deaths of a Netherborn. It's all bullshit if you ask me. Kenny isn't immortal, he just wants an excuse to come to this kewl skool with us."

I highly doubt Kenny would lie about something like that. It seems like an all-around bad idea, forcing yourself to be the scapegoat, the first in the line of fire every time. Not exactly the best ability to lie about. Eric's comments caused the boys to start arguing. I could feel their hate-filled words coursing through my skin, creating a tickling sensation.

"Uh fellas, maybe we should…" I tried to stop the arguing to the best of my ability.

"Shut up Butters! Anyway Cartman, stop being a dick to the rest of us, especially-" I closed my eyes and tried to block out Stan's voice. The feelings in my arms increased. Please stop, please, please just stop…

Eventually the argument calmed down and the feeling went away as the topic of conversation changed to who else might be enrolled at this school, and what other kids we might meet. I was thankful for the much more calming topic.

Our bus ended up being filled with most of our class from school surprisingly. Craig, Clyde and Jimmy were the next to get on, taking seats a few rows in front of us. Clyde excitedly recounted some story to his deadpan friend next to him while Jimmy, sitting in front of the two, listened in.

"I can't believe they let in someone like you _Craig_ ," Eric yelled from next to me, which Craig only responded with the middle finger.

Wendy and Scott jumped on at the next stop, carrying a wheelchair with Timmy sitting on top.

"Dude, I didn't know Wendy had powers," Kyle looked to his best friend.

"Neither. She never mentioned them while we were dating."

Wendy and Stan were our town's 'on again, off again' couple. From Stan's statement, I'm guessing it's currently off, but the way Wendy waved at Stan made me think that might soon change to on.

Finally, Tweek and Token climbed on, Token carrying what seemed to be a huge bag filled with who knows what. Craig nonchalantly pushed Clyde off the seat, making room for Tweek. Token, laughing helped Clyde up and took the seat opposite the couple with Clyde.

And with that, we left South Park and made our way to Denver, picking up a few more students I didn't recognise along the way. I guess this was it. Our first day. Alright Butters, don't screw this up...

* * *

Home class was… interesting. The strangest part was the fact everyone in South Park ended up in the same class. The teacher seems super nice though, although there was something weird about her. I'm probably looking too much into it.

She let us know we would be in the same class for normal subjects but separated for special training, which was going to make up the entirety of our morning today since they had to work out what we could already do with our powers. My group was labelled 'conjuring', and it seemed like none of my friends would be joining me, all five of us being placed in different groups.

It took me some time to find the courtyard where conjuring training would be held. A group of around fifteen kids my age had gathered, all of which I didn't recognise. Well, besides one boy standing towards the back. It's hard not to spot the kid constantly twitching.

"Hiya Tweek," I chirped, placing a hand on his shoulder. My act of kindness made the poor boy instantly spin around and jump.

"GAH! B-Butters!" Tweek reached for a handful of hair and tugged, managing to pull out a few strands.

Tweek has always been a bundle of nerves, which is one of the reasons I usually avoid him. His paranoia isn't the best for my condition.

The other reason I avoided him when I was younger was he stole my first friends from me. Kenny's family disappeared for a few months during fourth grade, although now I think about it his family were probably all dead for that time. Eric, Stan and Kyle let me make up the fourth slot in their group, but I was eventually replaced by Tweek. After that, whenever I saw the bundle of nerves I could feel my powers activating. I didn't want to be angry at him, but somewhere deep inside me I knew those feelings existed. His presence reminded me I wasn't as kind as I thought I was.

Jimmy told me later Tweek didn't get much of a say in the whole situation and left the group as quickly as he had joined. That, as well as the fact Eric and the others started including me more even after Kenny returned, helped me hide those bad feelings I had towards Tweek.

Around the same time I started hanging around Eric and the others, Tweek took to Craig and his group. Occasionally if our groups joined together I would talk to Tweek, but for the most part he was just another boy in our class.

But gosh darn it, I didn't want to see anyone this worried about anything.

"You feeling alright pal?" I asked Tweek, watching his eyes dart from side to side.

"I can't do it man, it's too much pressure. I can't bring coffee out here, we're about to be judged and…" Tweek looked down as his breath slowed, his erratic movements coming to a stop, " _he's not here_."

Tweek has always been a nervous wreck, but there is an exact point in time where Tweek started getting better. He's always going to be full of anxiety, but there is one person who can calm him.

I didn't know what to say to make the poor guy feel better, so I simply rubbed his back. Fortunately for me, the silence between us was interrupted.

The ground at the front of the group erupted into a wall of flames. Everyone jumped backwards in surprise, Tweek even fell to the ground.

"OH GOD THEY'VE COME TO KILL ME!" Tweek started moving backwards, darting his eyes all over the place.

I was ready to book it as well. Whatever this was, it looked powerful. Before I could make a move, the flames morphed into the shape of a man. As the flames disappeared, we got a clear view of the figure within the blaze. His hair was bright red, flowing up from his head like a flickering flame. He was tall, and wore a long black coat, similar to what a magician would wear.

"Welcome to conjuring class!" he bellowed. I helped Tweek up from the ground as he continued.

"You're all here because you can produce something," he held out his right hand, letting a small flame form in his palm, "out of nothing."

Throwing his hand into the air, the flame shot upwards, and erupted outwards mimicking fireworks.

"I will be your teacher, Mr Jackinoff. Now, before I can teach you how to control and make best use of your powers, first I want to see what you can do. Let's start with… you," he pointed directly at Tweek, making the kid jump.

"N-no way man! I can't go first!" I moved slightly to the right as strands of hair fell from Tweek's head thanks to the rapid movements of his head. The other students parted ways, gesturing for Tweek to step forward. I watched as he reluctantly did just that, darting his head at the other kids. Once he had made it to the front, I snuck through the group to take position closer to the action.

Tweek looked across the crowd, then back at the teacher. "I can't do it with so many people watching," Tweek let out, his left eye twitching shut.

"Of course you can," Mr Jackinoff hit Tweek on the back, almost causing Tweek to fall over, "if you can't, then there's no point you being here."

His voice had a sinister undertone to it, something not only I picked up on. Tweek, somehow, was freaking out even more then before. I couldn't just sit here and do nothing.

"Come on Tweek, you can do it," I called out. Tweek stared at me, his eyes wild and full of panic. It started getting to me, I could feel power flowing through my arms.

"It's not working!" Tweek called out. I ignored the panic in his voice. Come on Butters, you got to help him here. But gosh darn it, I can't help Tweek. I'm not what Tweek needs.

Unless…

I stepped forward and grabbed Tweek's hand.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Tweek stuttered, pulling at his hair with his free hand.

"Well, uh, I know I'm not Craig, but I thought well maybe…" I rubbed my foot on the ground and tried to ignore the strange looks from the other kids, "I could be your support? I know I'm not as good as him, but gosh, maybe I can still help."

At first, Tweek looked unsure. So, I did all I could do. I smiled at him. His unease faded as a soft smile was returned to me. I don't think I've ever seen Tweek smile. It seemed so calm, a harsh contradiction to his regular persona.

"Thanks Butters," he whispered, just loud enough so I could hear him. I watched as Tweek closed his eyes, and raised his free arm in front of him. Clenching it into a fist, a small bolt of lightning struck the ground in front of him. Although small, it was enough of a reminder to cause me to let go of Tweek's hand. The clapping from the other students was drowned in my mind as I tried to push my memories to the side. Memories of the day my life started going downhill.

* * *

It started one night while I was in second grade. No, that's wrong. It started a long time before that. I think I always knew it was there. When people argued, whenever things didn't go my way, I would get this sensation run through my body. I can't really explain it in words. It was almost like all the hateful words transformed into energy, coursing through my very veins. For a long time, I thought it was normal. I had no reason to believe otherwise.

My parents used to be very kind to me. Like any kid, I would occasionally be grounded or get into trouble, but no more than anybody else. That all changed when they found out about my powers. The night it happened, my father hadn't come home yet. Some villain caused damaged to the building he worked at, and casualties hadn't been reported. Mum was worried, but tried to hide it, sending me to bed early.

"Your father is fine. He'll be home soon, and we can get back to everything being normal again," she attempted to reassure me, but even at that young age I could tell she didn't believe the words she said. It's funny now, knowing how untrue that last statement is.

 _We can get back to everything being normal again._

I wish that was the truth.

I was asleep for a few hours before I awoke to yelling coming from downstairs. I snuck down to investigate and found my parents.

My father reeked of alcohol, something he only indulged in when things weren't quite going his way. Mum's makeup ran down her face from her tears.

"I was worried about you Stephen! I had no idea what happened to you! Please, you can't just ignore our family."

"I can do whatever I want, I don't need to report to you."

"But there was an attack on your office! I thought you had died!"

"And I almost did! Why do you think I went out drinking after the event?"

The feeling started. That tingly feeling, causing my arms to burn. I hated it. I had to get out of here before it got worse. I turned around and started running up the steps.

"BUTTERS! What are you doing awake? It's long past your bedtime," dad's anger suddenly shifted to me. I stopped in my tracks.

"I, uh, I heard you come home and I was worried…"

"See! You've even made your own son worry!" mum interrupted me and pleaded to my father, "look, let's just all go to bed and-"

"NO! BUTTERS, YOU'RE GROUNDED!" my father yelled. It felt as if his anger absorbed into my skin. It felt like it wanted to explode. Even just his face staring at me seemed to make that power grow. My parents have never been this upset, never gotten this angry, at least not to my face. I wanted to run away, but I couldn't break away from my father's gaze. More and more pain coursed through my skin. I couldn't handle it. I just wanted it to go away.

"PLEASE STOP!" I yelled, raising my hands into the air, "please… make it stop…"

And they did as they were told. My parents stopped and stared at me. All that energy I had stored up in my life, everything had built up to here. It was finally getting released. Not just from this night, but many other times. Times my parents got mad at me, times I was picked on at school, times I lied and caused harm to others. I looked up, and instantly wished I didn't.

Lightning soared from my palms, into the roof of the house. Rubble had fallen around me as I stood in the middle of the chaos. It wasn't stopping. What scared me the most though was how it felt.

It felt _good_.

The resulting thunderstorm was recorded as the worst our town has had in over 20 years. My parents drove me past the damage the next day. Scorched trees, power outages, you name it. I feared what I could do, what I _did_ do. My parents were not in the slightest though. They drove me to Denver, to see a specialist.

After a day of testing, my powers were confirmed, and the source of them identified. He recommended how to both limit and boost my abilities. From that moment on, it became a battle between myself and my parents. They would push my buttons, get me into situations out of my control, and I would try to use optimism to get around it. I thought that night they were bad, but that was only the beginning. Sure, I became a pushover, but what else could I do?

* * *

"...ters. Butters!" Tweek's voice snapped me back to reality, "do you need help as well?"

Everyone was staring at me, including the teacher. Did I miss them say it was my turn? This was not a good time… Those memories, Tweek's panic, the judgemental stares from the others… I was going to erupt. The pulses rising through my veins were testament to that fact. But I had to do something. The more time I left, the more I could feel the energy within me rising. I lifted my free hand into the air.

My free hand?

Something was tightly gripping onto my right hand. Turning my head, I saw Tweek smiling at me. He held tightly onto my hand, just as I did for him. The warmth emanating from his grip calmed my nerves, as I looked upwards, a few small sparks flying from my left hand.

It looked almost beautiful.

After the class clapped, the teacher hushed us into the crowd as a different kid was called forward. Tweek and I let out a few sighs of relief, glad our time in the spotlight was over.

"You have lightning powers too?" I questioned Tweek quietly, trying to draw as little attention as I could manage.

"Sort of. Lightning, ice and water. I've always struggled with lightning though, but just then it seemed to come naturally… I'm best at ice, because Craig is normally here, and my ice powers involves blowing…" Tweek's cheeks blushed as he continued, "blowing a kiss…"

I'm not sure why my presence caused Tweek to shift from ice to lightning. Maybe it had something to do with the source of his powers? If he normally practices with Craig and he is best at ice, maybe ice comes from love. But what would lightning come from?

"Uh Tweek," I mumbled, "I know we're in separate friend groups, but since we're in these classes together, maybe we could be friends?"

Tweek stared at me, as if searching for some alternative motive before nodding, "Y-yeah. Alright Butters."

I can't be positive, but if I had to guess, for Tweek lightning might come from friendship. Tweek and I aren't exactly 'best friend' material, but if I can provide support to him and he can do the same to me, then this was a friendship I wanted. Besides, if I can make someone even slightly happy, then going to this school might not be as bad as I thought it would be.

* * *

AN: Whew, that ended up a bit longer then I had planned. I really enjoy the Butters/Tweek dynamic. They're both their own little versions of messed up.

Why is it that all the blonde guys in South Park come from fucked up families?

Anyway thanks for reading. Have a lovely morning/afternoon/night, and I'll see you next time~


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